


on suitors and succession

by akaparalian



Category: Young Avengers
Genre: F/F, Femslash February
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 02:33:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akaparalian/pseuds/akaparalian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kate Bishop has a suitor she's never met, and then she has a different suitor that she's never  met, and somehow she's still incredibly happy about this development.</p>
            </blockquote>





	on suitors and succession

**Author's Note:**

> For trope bingo; prompt was 'force/arranged marriage'.

On the one hand, Kate knows that this is something that's been expected of her for her entire life. Her sister certainly wasn't going to accept the estate, and had married out of the family and into another little kingdom far enough from home that she wouldn't be expected to take any responsibility for this one, and so it's been left to her to stop being Kate and become the Lady Bishop. And, really, most of the time that's all right - she certainly likes yelling at people, and wearing cool dresses, and yelling at people while wearing cool dresses. It isn't the power that she's afraid of, and it isn't even fulfilling this obligation to a family that has never quite understood her; she _likes_ power, and as long as taking power doesn't mean she can't still take fencing and boxing and archery lessons, too, then she's fine with the idea.

The part that she isn't quite sure about is this whole - marriage. Thing.

She's been sitting her in this same uncomfortable chair for _two hours_ now, waiting as her father drones on about the qualities and attributes and achievements, and for the life of her the only thing she's taking away from it is that he's some important adventurer type, vanquished lots of challengers and won lots of battles and gone on lots of quests or something. She doesn't _care_ , is the thing - she'd much rather they just get this part over with so that she can actually _meet_ the guy, because this whole information session is all leading up to the big reveal, and it got real old real fast.

In fact, it's getting boring enough that she's about to risk pissing her dad off and getting the Eyebrows of Disapproval by telling him to just stop and tell her when the guy gets here, except that before she gets the chance, someone else bustles into the room and, sure enough, here come the Eyebrows.

"Terribly sorry to interrupt, sir," Michael says, bowing slightly, and even under his neatly styled gray mustache and small, round spectacles Kate can just tell that his eyes are sparkling, a perfect counterpoint to his sincere tone and stature that's the only warning she gets that something is about to go very much her way; Harold always did like her better than anyone else in the family, and if he's happy, that can only mean good things. Anyway, at this point she's about ready to start ripping curtains and breaking china if it means dear old Dad will stop _droning_.

Sir Derek Bishop sighs through his nose, his own half-moon glasses sliding down his nose in a way that Kate's always found kind of amusing. "What is it, Michael?" he asks, his voice somewhere between bored and irritated, and Michael straightens and nods.

"It would seem there's been a tragedy," Michael informs them, his eyes once again betraying a certain inaccuracy to his somber tone. "In relation to Miss Katherine's suitor, that is." He pauses for a second, the air heavy with confusion, before clarifying: "He seems to have died, sir."

Kate glances sidelong at her father, who's gone very pale, blinking rapidly; she knows that it's taken quite a long time to find someone that both she and her father considered relatively acceptable, because she had to sit there right along with him and look through the nigh-endless stacks of reports compiled on the various eligible bachelors for miles around, and so it makes sense to her that he's suddenly overcome with the inability to be speak, his mouth gaping open in question.

It's then, of course, that the best thing _ever_ happens: someone else steps into the room from behind Michael, and it's Kate's turn to gape.

"Yeah, well, he got into one too many duels," the stranger says, her voice vaguely rough and unsympathetic. "It happens," she adds, and Kate's still trying to process, unsure what she should be focusing on here - girl? Trousers? Dark shining hair gathered away from her face, revealing strong shoulders and glittering silver stars in her earlobes? Deep red lips and deep brown eyes? Girl? - and then finally everything clicks into place. "So they sent me in his place."

Kate's mind completely and abruptly goes blank, confused mental mumbles fading into clarity. Good. This is good. This is _so much_ better than some guy who gets into too many duels and has too many adventures and is probably incredibly boring in real life. _So much better._

She doesn't even realize she's up and walking across the room until she's standing in front of her mystery woman, her father spluttering behind her, except she doesn't _care_ if he's spluttering, because this is perfect. She gets married, she gets married to someone who's actually _interesting_ \- and for that matter, who's captured her interest in mere seconds, with no two-hour report on merits and achievements necessary. "What's your name?" she asks, more breathlessly than she would have liked, and her new suitor - god, _suitor_ \- inclines her head.

"America Chavez," she says, and Kate feels a laugh bubbling up from under her lips, her bodice suddenly too tight in a million different ways.

"Kate Bishop," she replies. "But, uh, you know that, I guess."

America laughs soft and low, one eyebrow quirking up as though of its own accord, and Kate's father finally manages to speak up from behind them; truth be told, she'd almost forgotten he was there. "You can't be _serious_ ," Mr. Bishop blusters, and both of them turn slightly to face him. "It's not - it's not what we agreed to," he adds, less certainly, looking back and forth between them like he's slowly realizing exactly how much he's lost control of this situation in less than a minute.

Kate levels him with her best incredulous look, something she'd learned from her mother and her sister both, and watches him deflate another couple of intervals, clearly mulling it over some more in his head. She waits, flashing America in a smile when she catches her dubious expression out of the corner of her eye, and grins when her dad sighs and slumps down a bit in his chair before straightening, standing, and tugging on his jacket to settle out the wrinkles. "Fine," he says, stiffly enough that it's clear he thinks his tone can bring this back under his control. "A spouse is a spouse, I suppose. Just…" He lets out a dry, gusty laugh, stepping around his chair to clap Kate gently on the shoulder and smile thinly at America before he bustles out of the room, leaving them with, "Figure out the details of the wedding sometime in the next century."

And when she turns away from him and back to face the girl standing across from her, Kate doesn't really think that's going to be that hard. The door shuts behind him with a solid, heavy sound, and in the silence she stares wide-eyed across the socially acceptable feet between them and slowly tries to come to terms with the fact that this is actually happening.

Of course, they don't end up actually talking about the wedding; instead, they settle in the armchairs Kate and her father had occupied a moment ago, with the low little table between them, and they just sort of stare at each other for a moment. Kate's quiet, but her mind is back to buzzing now that her father and Michael have left the two of them alone.

"So," she starts after a moment. "Who _are_ you, America Chavez?"

America looks up at her with surprise tugging at the edges of her expression, and Kate hides a smile; maybe she'd been expecting some demure young socialite. Not that Kate couldn't be that person, but it wasn't _her_ ; she only did it when she needed to. And right now, she _really_ wasn't feeling the need.

"Well," America begins, voice bordering on a drawl. "I'm the youngest of three. Your - betrothed, he was my older brother. Adopted," she adds, when Kate's face clouds with confusion. "All three of us. And, well, our middle sibling was already married off, so I was the only choice they had left." She leans back in her chair, the read of her blouse in sharp contrast to both her neat back trousers and the creamy tan leather, and Kate swallows.

"Why send you at all?" she asks, more to keep America talking and hopefully not noticing her reactions than anything else. "Not that I'm not grateful, of course."

She laughs, crossing her legs in a way that's distinctly - well, not something Kate would have been allowed to get away with if her father was in the room. And not really a good idea in a skirt, either. "Family kind of needs to get rid of us," and her voice is light enough that that statement doesn't quite feel odd. "Too many mouths to feed, and besides that, we keep getting into trouble."

"Like duels," Kate clarifies, and that earns her a much more robust laugh and a smile that's like icewater down her back, tickling and smooth all at once.

"Exactly," America confirms, cocking her head to the side and looking at Kate from under her eyelashes. "What about you? Why not let you run the estate on your own?"

Kate shrugs delicately, rolling her eyes and gesturing in the direction her father had gone. "Too set in tradition and old standards," she says, "and wanting to make sure I didn't elope to get out of responsibility, like my dear sister." She shudders a bit, then, and changes the subject, despite that it was one she'd started them on in the first place. "But that's not really important, I guess. What about _you_? I mean, what do you… do?"

America looks at her more seriously now, like she's trying to decide if she's about to ruin this whole thing straight off. "Well," she says slowly, "I never met a style of fighting I didn't like, for starters."

Kate grins at that, wide and brilliant, and leans forward on her elbows, looking America earnestly in the eyes. "I can't say that, but I do box. And fence. And I'm pretty deadly with a bow and arrow."

She sags a bit, relieved, before uncrossing her legs and leaning forward herself. "Well, at least I know you're not gonna look at me weird for beating up any guys that try and dance with you at parties."

Kate snorts. "I can take care of myself," she says, raising an eyebrow defiantly, but she's not as offended as she would have been if those words had come from America's older brother or any other guy her father had seen fit to parade before her and sign her off to, because something tells her that this is a test and not an attempted show of manly strength and pride.

She's proven right when America smiles again, almost dangerously this time. "I know," she says, and Kate decides once and for all that arranged marriage or not, she's pretty sure they're going to be able to make this work just fine.


End file.
